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"It IS funny, isn't it?" pursued Cicely "So unlike the Apostles!" Maryllia smiled. Lady Beaulyon laughed outright. "Are you trying to be satirical, you droll child?" she enquired languidly. "Oh no, I'm not trying," replied Cicely, with a quick flash of her dark eyes "It comes quite easy! You were talking about clergymen offending their patrons. Now Mr. Walden hasn't got any patron to offend.
Adderley took off his hat, as Maryllia came across to the gate from the umbrageous shadow of a knot of pine-trees, looking the embodiment of fresh daintiness, in a soft white gown trimmed with wonderfully knotted tufts of palest rose ribbon, and wearing an enchanting 'poke' straw hat with a careless knot of pink hyacinths tumbling against her lovely hair.
And, attended by an almost breathless silence on the part of his auditors, he related with an air of patient endurance and compassionate regret, his own account of the interview between Maryllia and Walden in the picture- gallery, exaggerating something here, introducing a suggestive insinuation there, suppressing the simplicity of the true facts, and inserting falsehood wherever convenient, till he had succeeded in placing Walden's good name at Miss Tabitha's cat-like mercy for her to rend and pounce upon to the utmost extent of her own jaundiced rage and jealous venom.
Sufficient, however, was altogether done and said by all concerned to weave a web of worry round Maryllia, and to cause her to heartily regret that she had ever asked any of her London acquaintances down to her house.
"Poor little soul!" he murmured, reflecting on a conversation with which Julian Adderley had regaled him the previous day, concerning some of the guests at Abbot's Manor "Poor, weary, sweet little soul!" While Maryllia, during his brief absence was thinking "I won't cry, or he'll take me for a worse fool than I am.
"It may possibly become one;" he replied, complacently "But to speak more plainly suppose Mr. Walden fell in love with Miss Vancourt, or Miss Vancourt fell in love with Mr. Walden, what would you say?" "Suppose a Moon-calf jumped over the moon!" said Cicely disdainfully "Saint Moses! Maryllia is as likely to fall in love as I am, and I'm the very last possibility in the way of sentiment.
"Well, no one wouldn't 'ave saved 'em if so be as you 'adn't come 'ome, Miss," declared Mrs. Spruce. "For Mr. Leach he be a man of his word, and as obs'nate as they makes 'em, which the Lord Almighty knows men is all made as obs'nate as pigs and he's been master over the place like " "More's the pity!" said Maryllia; "But he is master here no longer, Spruce; I am now both mistress and master.
And as the hours wore on, and the silence grew more intense, the slow and somewhat rusty pendulum of the clock in the tower could just be heard faintly ticking its way on towards the figures of the dawn. "Give all take nothing Give all take no thing!" it seemed to say; the motto of love and the code of chivalry, according to Maryllia.
The melancholy autumn shook down the once green leaves, all curled up in withering death-convulsions, from the branches of the trees now tossing in chill wind and weeping mists of rain. No news had been received by anyone in the village concerning Maryllia.
"Oh, no! only for Paris," and while the old lady fumbled nervously in her 'official' drawer, Maryllia glanced around the little business establishment with amused interest. She had a keen eye for small details, and she noticed with humorous appreciation Mrs.
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